


Lionheart

by niawen



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Biting, Canon Divergent, M/M, PWP, Possessive Behavior, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Snark, just kind of rough in general, possible canon divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 20:01:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5678791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niawen/pseuds/niawen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Altair returns to Masyaf from a long expedition with unexpected dangers and delays.  Upon his return, he and Malik take stock of the damages and revel in the relief of being reunited after long months.  And while that sounds very soft and gentle, the reality is Malik is frustrated with himself and frustrated with Altair while the Grandmaster is a starving animal ready to reclaim his dominant spot on the food chain.</p><p>Fair warning: Anything Oliver Bowden related does not exist, this includes AC:Revelations</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lionheart

Malik was roused just before midnight by the sound of quiet knocking at his chamber door. He was slow to clear the sleep from his eyes but when he was able to scrape most of his wits together he jolted slightly and hurried to pull his surcoat on. It was bitterly cold and his fist tightened in the heavy fabric, holding it close over his body as he threw the door open.

The novice who greeted him when Malik opened the door bowed his head respectfully. “The sentry tower just sent word, the Grandmaster and his party are making their way up to the village.”

“Thank you, you may go,” Malik answered, turning back into his room to pull on a heavy winter cloak as the young man excused himself. Snow had been blasting Masyaf for days now, necessitating several layers of heavy clothing and making his amputated arm ache deep in his bones. Altair had been due back at the beginning of the cold season, about three months ago. He and his party had been delayed, forced to travel by land to avoid crusaders instead of the faster route oversea- this alone would have added a month but early season snowstorms blocked several well used mountain passes and nearly cut off their communication channels entirely. The Grandmaster managed to send word in warning so that the fortress didn’t dissolve into hysteria but it was still more nerve wracking than Malik cared to admit.

Malik told himself he had been mostly concerned for Altair in terms of his title and responsibilities but a few weeks after he was due back, he’d been forced to admit that he missed the arrogant bastard and worried for him more than he felt sane. Altair’s terse messages from somewhere south of Constantinople had detailed the situation a little, but his last missive had been months ago. 

Malik pulled the heavy, fur lined cloak closer around his shoulders, putting the cowl up to protect against the wind as he exited his chambers and made his way to the enormous main hall and out into the courtyard beyond. The moon was full and high in the sky but obscured by heavy, black-gray storm clouds- which were nearly impossible to see anyway because of the wet snow whipping up the mountain. Malik moved to the portcullis, and down the path he could see torches in the village- held by the guardsmen leading the party of riders up to him.

Unwillingly, Malik thought on the one missive Altair had been able to get to him- a scrap of paper that had his name scrawled on the back in messy, rushed writing and had been tied up tightly with the second report on his delay.

_The way is difficult but no danger I cannot handle. Your counsel is much missed._

Malik snorted to himself. The message had been crafted to appear nonsensitive to prying eyes (enemies and Assassins alike) but Malik could practically hear the sly, smug smirk and rolled his eyes. Part of him knew that Altair had probably felt obligated to try and reach him separately to assure him that the delay meant no grave danger to his life. Even if the Grandmaster could only do it via vague double entendres. Malik was suddenly so disgusted with the pair of them that he shook his head as though to force the thought away.

The riders were close enough to hear now, their voices low but carrying on the wind as the guardsmen escorted their long-absent Grandmaster and his men back up to the fortress. Malik stayed where he was as the clatter of hooves and voices drew closer until, after a few long, cold minutes, they came level to him. Altair was at the front of the group, his horse snorting clouds of hot breath with every few steps. 

Malik could see immediately that he looked travel-worn and exhausted and very glad to be home. Not entirely willingly, he found himself taking note of the Grandmaster’s appearance- that even though he was tired and cold he still looked the picture of an Assassin Grandmaster. 

Altair was covered in heavy furs, girded around his waist and shoulders and lining his travelling cloak and thick cowl. They were cut and tailored though, not like the huge pelts the crusaders wore that made them look like barbarians. Beneath the furs and the cloak and the thick red fabric coiled loosely around his neck under his heavy cowl, Altair’s armor glinted dully in the torchlight. The armory and forge at Masyaf produced armaments known for their durability and austere beauty. All of Altair’s equipment was exemplary Masyaf work, worn from years of vigorous use but befitting his station. Malik knew that, his personal disdain for posturing and needless displays of wealth and rank and power aside, the image Altair cut was important. His men respected him, his enemies feared him, and his allies gravitated to the power he wielded. 

The Grandmaster sat straight in the saddle and his fierce eyes raked over his surroundings, flickering to men who spoke to him before lifting to take in the snowy fortress walls. As he drew closer, his eyes fell on Malik, standing against the stone archway in silence, and even in the dark, the he could see his lips curl into a tired smirk. 

Malik felt a surge of something then. Relief, certainly. He was glad Altair was back and unharmed, and that he could resume his duties in managing the keep. Malik also felt a strange sense of something that was a little melancholy. He had missed Altair. For most of his life, Altair’s face had been a source of anger, dislike, and violent, outright hatred- something that was always arrogant and twisted with feral brutality. There was something wrong with him, he decided, that now he could look on the other man and feel anything other than revulsion. But Altair had changed _somehow _and he wasn’t the same person he’d been before Solomon’s Temple.__

__Altair dismounted with a careless kind of gracefulness, his armor and equipment clinking softly. While there was an undeniably commanding look about him in his field regalia, Malik noticed immediately that Altair looked gaunt and a little sallow. His face was scruffy and his cheeks hollow beneath his sharp eyes, their unusual color aglow in the flickering torchlight. Altair came close and clasped Malik’s arm through a thick leather glove, jerking him in close for a brief, businesslike embrace for an instant before he pulled away. “Malik.” he said gruffly, sounding more exhausted than he looked if such a thing were possible. “Safety and peace, brother.”_ _

__Malik repeated the greeting and then smiled a little. Altair did not miss the rare expression and he chuckled softly before turning to the men. “Take care of the horses,” he ordered, running the flat of his palm along the muzzle of his mount, who had come in closer to nudge the Grandmaster with its great head. “Take an inventory of our supplies- we were given goodwill gifts by our brothers, see that they’re accounted for. I want a formal account tomorrow morning and our rough maps delivered to the archivists. Do not disturb me tonight, there are important matters to discuss.”_ _

__The guardsmen nodded and the men Altair had traveled with bowed their heads respectfully and left, eager for sleep and to see their friends and families. Malik knew that even in Masyaf, he and Altair were not totally free to speak without consequence- at least not out in the courtyard. They fell into step beside each other, moving back into the relative warmth and shelter the massive stone fortress provided._ _

__“The fortress is in one piece.” Altair remarked, his lips still curved just slightly._ _

__Malik scoffed quietly. “Of course it is. I’m the reason it’s standing even when you’re here.”_ _

__The Grandmaster laughed as they took the stairs leading into the tower rooms where Altair’s private chambers sat, locked and deserted as they had been the last long months. Malik shot him a look that was humored but still a little bit challenging, as though daring Altair to disagree with him. “Well,” Altair returned after a moment, “you’re not wrong.”_ _

__Malik pursed his lips a little irritably. Banter was all fine and well but Altair’s unexpected deference always made him misstep and fumble, feeling slightly put off at the lack of snark. “My chambers. I’ve already got a fire going and you’re not about to convince me that you plan on working.” Altair made no protest as Malik veered right at the top of the winding stairs and followed along complacently. “You’re late,” the Dai said next, annoyance at Altair’s comment and his lack of engagement. “Trekking through Greece and Constantinople instead of going to Acre by ship? I never thought you’d have the patience for that.”_ _

__“I would have loved to get on a ship. I’d have been back at the end of fall,” Altair griped as they rounded the corner. “Crusaders had overrun every port we came near, it was just too risky. Especially since I spent three weeks convincing the Assassins in Lyon that uniting would make us less vulnerable. Getting caught and killed after that would have ruined everything.”_ _

__Malik nodded gravely and they entered his apartments. He’d imagined their banter would be a little more spirited after spending so much time apart but Malik felt a heavy knot in his chest. The second the door clicked shut though, Altair jerked Malik closer by the arm and crushed their lips together, backing him into the wall next to the heavy door._ _

__They stayed like that for long minutes, kissing furiously while they grabbed and pulled at each other- until Malik’s hand was in Altair’s cowl, cupping the flesh under his ear and digging his fingers into the base of his skull harder than entirely necessary and Altair’s arms were clamped around the small of Malik’s back, forcing him in tightly._ _

__“Mm,” Malik groaned suddenly, pulling back and trying not to sound as breathless as he felt. “You reckless idiot, you could have _died_.”_ _

__“A ship was out of the question,” Altair growled again, shifting to get his mouth to Malik’s jaw. “There was no way to stay anonymous on a voyage full of crusaders and templars.” He jerked Malik in even closer and grunted frustratedly. “I’m fine. We didn’t lose anyone. The mission was a success.”_ _

__Altair pushed in to resume their furious kissing, but Malik was suddenly intensely irritated with the whole situation. “Stupid ass,” he growled furiously. Still, Altair’s hands and heat and persistence was enough to distract him, at least enough to continue._ _

__“I missed you, too,” Altair quipped, shaking the gloves off his hands to curl them in the thick fabric cinched around Malik’s waist. “You flatter me with such concern.”_ _

__“Shut up,” Malik snapped, tugging at the sash wrapped around the Grandmaster’s waist. “I’m not concerned for your useless hide.” He struggled with Altair’s robes, unclasping his cloak and pulling the heavy scarf from his neck. Altair pulled at him all the while, yanking him in the general direction of the fire and fumbling impatiently at his robes._ _

__There were carpets on floor just in front of the grate, and Malik vaguely realized that they would most likely be spending the night on them. But it’s not like they would be _sleeping_. Altair’s hands were greedy, roving over his cold body and removing layers of fine cloth in a rush. He reciprocated as well as he could, though with one hand it was more than a little awkward and clumsy. They both worked at Altair’s breastplate hurriedly, undoing buckles and straps before they pushed it over his head and let it crash to the floor. Greaves, scabbards, pauldrons, and black surcoat fell to the ground next- the task was easier work now that they were both struggling to get the Grandmaster unclothed. Malik paused for a moment, his dark skin shivery and riddled with gooseflesh and clad in only his pants. Altair was in a similar state of undress and Malik leaned back to appreciate it._ _

__The flickering firelight cast a warm glow on Altair but Malik was frowning sharply. The Grandmaster had looked a little gaunt out in the courtyard but undressed... his appearance was a little alarming. Altair’s body told of malnourishment- his torso was thinner and bonier than Malik remembered. Altair had always been a specimen of near physical perfection and seeing him like this was slightly shocking and disconcerting. The deep shadows that had defined the musculature of Altair’s chest and stomach had faded a little, and Malik could see his ribcage clearly._ _

__“What happened to you?” Malik asked, his face shrewd and a little anxious. He knew it was a pointless inquiry- he already knew what had happened but he couldn’t help himself. He found himself taking note of the damage- Altair’s collar and shoulders were standing out starkly from pale, slightly waxen flesh and his cheeks were hollow beneath his fractionally sunken eyes… even his wrists and hands looked bony. He looked frail._ _

__Altair smirked a little but Malik didn’t miss the way his eyes averted slightly. “We had to be very careful about our supplies… we didn’t know how long we would be stuck in the passes,” he explained. “Once we got to Hama we were able to restock and eat better but… I mean, the damage had already been done.”_ _

__“You look _terrible_ ,” Malik said sharply. It was much less sympathetic than perhaps he’d intended but the admonishment in his voice came across clearly. It wasn’t beyond his notice that Altair seemed intensely uncomfortable with the scrutiny but he couldn’t keep himself from scouring Altair’s body and taking count of the damage and new scars he found there. That the Grandmaster wasn’t already on top of him again spoke volumes of his discomfort. _ _

__“Yeah,” Altair agreed, not looking at himself and avoiding Malik’s eyes. “We had… some close calls on top of just being stuck in harsh conditions for weeks. I sent word at every opportunity. I wanted to warn you.”_ _

__Malik immediately shifted to blase indifference to divert the seriousness of the moment and regain control of his anxiety at Altair’s appearance. “I received your missives. You didn’t manage to convey anything about your situation other than that you were delayed and you would likely be pawing at me the moment you returned. As always.”_ _

__The snark finally spurred Altair to something that was closer to his normal demeanor. “I’ve been gone for months,” he growled, though he looked slightly humored with Malik’s annoyance. “You really expect me to stay away? Besides,” he went on with an arrogant little smirk and a pointed glance to Malik’s half dressed state, “it seems as though you’re all ready to paw at me, too.”_ _

__Malik made an irritable face as Altair slunk back in, his hands moving right to the Dai’s hips. “Such arrogance,” Malik snapped immediately. “I’ve known you since you were a child, Altair. There’s not an ounce of self control in your whole body and since I don’t have time to try and tame your animal nonsense tonight, I might as well just go along with your selfish bullshit and spare myself a headache!” He lifted his hand in reaction to Altair dragging him in but the most natural place for it to go was the Grandmaster’s chest. Disliking the gentle,encouraging movement, he instead raised his palm to the side of Altair’s throat, his thumb coming to rest a little threateningly above his Adam’s Apple._ _

__It was obvious that Altair was taking an obscene amount of pleasure in riling Malik up- his lips were curved smugly and the expression was one of sheer, childish delight. “Be grateful I don’t have the patience to make you wait for it, Malik. Getting you to beg after all your blustering is one of life’s great satisfactions.”_ _

__“You _insufferable--!_ ” But then Altair jerked him in harder and their hips ground together slightly. Malik’s hand was still resting threateningly against Altair’s warm throat and he had half a mind to tighten his grip and make Altair gasp for breath._ _

__Despite the violence of the movement, Altair only pushed in harder, growling from deep in his throat so loudly that the noise rumbled in the pit of Malik’s guts. His thoughts derailed abruptly as Altair’s warm hands slid up his ribs and around his sides to press against his shoulder blades and bring him in suffocatingly close._ _

__And then all semblance of civility went out the window. Altair growled again and leaned in to bite the helix of Malik’s ear, pulling him in tightly. Malik started to curse but Altair pivoted and dropped to his knees, forcibly dragging Malik along with him. He forced the Dai to his back on the carpets, not bothering to be gentle, and was on top of him a second later. Malik tried to curse again, hellbent on telling Altair not to be a savage fucking animal but then the Grandmaster slammed his single wrist against the carpets, pinning it there and it was all Malik could do not to arch and gasp too sharply. He was dubious of his success._ _

__But there was no time for that any more. Altair had a feral glint to his eyes- black and blown with the usual sensory high that came with their most intense nights together… on nights like this when Altair returned from long expeditions or when Malik teased him into incoherency. Malik knew that Altair was close to utterly wild in this state- he could never be stopped or reasoned with at this point (not that that was a thing when he wasn’t spun up, deprived, and uncontrollably horny). If Malik was honest with himself, it turned him the fuck on. But, like usual, he snarled in annoyance instead of tolerating that particular thought further._ _

__He was wrenched out of his train of thought by Altair pushing his entire body into his, nearly laying down atop him. Malik could feel his cock pressed up against his thigh, slotting against him and growing thicker and hotter by the second. Fire scorched across his nerves at the Grandmaster’s heavy breath in answer but he was determined to at least make this a challenge for the insufferably possessive Grandmaster. “Get up,” he grunted futilely, trying to jerk his wrist out of Altair’s grip. “Get up! We have all night, don’t be a fucking disappointment and lose it already!”_ _

__Altair growled from deep in the pit of his chest and rutted against Malik so hard it made his shoulders slide against the floor. “Ha,” he taunted breathlessly, grinding his cock into Malik’s overheating body with a kind of rough slowness that was steadily frying his brain and lighting up every nerve he had. “I’ve been without outlet for _months_. You’ll be begging me to let you go before I’m done with you.”_ _

__“Selfish fucking animal- _nngh!_ ” Altair sat back on his knees and hefted Malik’s upright and into his lap with his stupid, brute strength, smirking ferally at Malik’s impatient anger. Now free, Malik sat up as much as he could (which wasn’t much at all) and pushed his palm against Altair’s chest. “Slow down, dammit!”_ _

__Altair knew that Malik was just being contrary and his patience had just about disintegrated entirely. He surged forward and crushed their lips together, kissing Malik furiously and possessively even as he continued to pull him into his lap. He noted with detached satisfaction that Malik’s hand was no longer shoving against him- instead his fingers were curled and clawing welts down the side of his chest and even though Malik was groaning angrily, he was still groaning._ _

__Malik tried to pull away twice before he got fed up with Altair’s dominating bullshit and began to kiss him back just as forcefully, biting at his tongue when it shoved into his mouth. Altair was only encouraged and kissed back just as hard, nipping Malik possessively and drawing blood on a particularly rough bite to the edge of his lip. Malik’s hand found it’s way to the back of his skull and fisted tightly in Altair’s hair; he yanked back ruthlessly, pulling just to cause pain. Altair’s body arched a little and was finally forced to pull back, his throat exposed. Malik descended on him roughly, biting and sucking viciously, trying to lift an enormous mark on purpose._ _

__There was a flurry of movement and suddenly Altair shoved Malik off him with a force that startled the Dai, now unsure if he’d set Altair into a rage or something. He didn’t get a chance to rationalize the expression on Altair’s face, however, before the Grandmaster dropped atop him again and curled his fingers in the waist of his trousers. With an overpowered jerk, Altair forced them out of the way where they tangled around Malik’s dark thighs. The Dai had a fraction of a second to gasp in irritation before Altair descended on his cock and sucked tightly._ _

__Malik collapsed back against the carpets in a heap, gasping shallowly while his fist clenched and released spasmodically. Altair didn’t have any particular finesse when using his mouth but as much as Malik tried to deny it, his hungry force and urgent need always seemed to make his clumsy mouthing and overactive gag reflex somehow attractive. He felt the Grandmaster’s movement acutely- the light scrape of his teeth, his wicked tongue, and his soft, wet lips taking as much as he could._ _

__Malik bucked upwards just to be an asshole and groaned loudly at the sensation of Altair gagging. The Grandmaster wasn’t stopping, however, and at this point, Malik could only be dragged forcibly along for the ride. He closed his eyes to block out the flickering firelight and tried to quell the noises rising up from his heaving chest. He was hard as a fucking rock now and the thought of Altair with a mouthful of his cock was always enough to get him aching for it._ _

__Altair seemed to sense this and pulled back after a few long seconds, wrestling with Malik’s pants until he pulled them away entirely and threw them aside. Malik knew what was coming and reached up again for Altair- because he was not wearing clothes, he tangled his fingers in his hair again and yanked him down commandingly. “Hurry up!” he growled breathlessly, furious at the smirk beginning to curl Altair’s lips. “Arrogant-!”_ _

__Altair leaned to the side, rifling through his discarded clothing. Malik knew what he was after and shifted impatiently until the Grandmaster straightened out and pressed several slick fingers up against his tight entrance. Malik tried not to moan and failed spectacularly, unwillingly caught off guard by Altair’s urgent insistence. It was always like this when Altair returned from long trips- hell, he was nearly the same degree of wild animal even after short ones._ _

__Altair breached him a second later and Malik couldn’t help but tense in reaction, gasping raggedly. The Grandmaster was clearly fighting to go slow, pressing two fingers into Malik and scissoring gently. He gasped unwillingly and but couldn’t stop himself from relaxing slightly, too turned on to delay things any longer._ _

__Altair smirked again, only making eye contact for a second before he shifted and concentrated on his task. Malik had half a snide quip out of his mouth before Altair pressed deep and began rubbing hard, slow circles against his prostate and Malik’s brain nearly liquefied._ _

__Malik went tense and moaned, loud and breathless and husky, the noise reverberating off his chamber walls. He didn’t care if anyone heard them. Altair hitched his leg to the side and it opened Malik up a little… the heavy motions of Altair’s fingers were splitting his nerves and his whole body tightened and his cock twitched eagerly. “Goddamn you,” Malik gasped faintly when he was able and he reached up to cuff Altair clumsily against the side of his head. “Fuck me!”_ _

__Altair only gave a hoarse grunt at that but Malik could see his composure slip a little more in the possessive way his free hand tightened against Malik’s thigh- hard enough to leave imprints with his blunt nails. “Say it again,” he growled, his eyes alight with a disturbing, predatory greed and no cocksure smirk in sight._ _

__Malik cuffed him again in frustration but couldn’t find it in himself to delay any longer. “Fuck me. _Altair-!_ ”_ _

__Altair could look like a smug fuck as much as he wanted but both of them knew that the Grandmaster had zero ability to resist if Malik wanted something. And of course, Altair’s capabilities of restraint basically just dissolved with the slightest amount of pressure on Malik’s part- he sat up abruptly and practically tore his pants in an effort to get naked enough to fuck him. Malik noted that Altair wasn’t smirking, actually. His face was downright bestial, his eyes scouring Malik’s body like a predator sizing up something it was going to devour. Malik would have bristled at the analogy but Altair was on top of him an instant later and he forgot his protests._ _

__The slowness and care was gone. Altair positioned himself hastily and was pushing up into Malik a second later. Malik knew that Altair was usually uncontrollable for that first round but that he would be more controllable for the rest of the night, and there were still many hours before dawn that offered the opportunity to take advantage of this… He tried to ignore the fact that it was Altair’s stupid, animal urgency that had him gasping for it in the first place, knowing it was only making Altair more feral._ _

__Altair thrust sharply and then he leaned forward to brace himself on his hands over Malik’s body. When he shoved all the way forward a second time, Malik keened and threw his hand over the back of Altair’s neck, clawing roughly and not bothering to rectify this by adjusting his grip. Altair built up to a bruising pace faster than Malik could scrape together impatient insults._ _

__He was yanking Altair in harder and when their lips met again it was all growls and teeth. They both faintly knew that Altair couldn’t maintain this pace forever and Malik knew better than to wait for climax. He began arching his hips up tightly, meeting Altair’s sharp, hungry thrusts and drawing his strokes to that one place that made lights explode behind his eyelids._ _

__The only lasted another second or two before everything came to a head and then crashed. Altair fell off to the side, boneless and flushed next to Malik, who had sort of just melted back into the carpets with an expression vague annoyance on his face- though his lips were parted around his panting._ _


End file.
